Due Death
by Moony73
Summary: Protectiveness. It's one thing werewolves are known for, but when Remus realizes that his daughter is hiding something more serious than just a little secret, he must fight to win his daughter back and teach her that trust is not secrecy.
1. Premature Death

_P__remature Death_

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**Madness? Or Love? Hate? Or Forgiveness? **

**There can only be one… One to die… One to live… And the date for the Death is due…**

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_10 years before the suicidal attempt…_

_The echoing voices, the screaming, the pounding, the hurt, she couldn't stand it. All the while, he did nothing to stop her. Staring, watching slowly, she paused, the impulses, her heartbeat, it was becoming too much. He had never meant to do anything to her. But he had brought the subject upon her… or rather the other way around. Now, she knew. Her daughter would be like him. More than she knew. Suddenly she fell to the floor. And still he did nothing but sit there with his head in his hands. She wept on. She could feel her daughter, squirming, lifeless, yet so alive in her stomach._

_Her shoulders slumped. What would happen now? Both the Wizarding community and the Muggle community would do nothing. He wouldn't certainly inform any Muggle office of his condition, but then again, he wouldn't work for any Muggle job. She heard him sob, looked up to see his shoulders jump._

"_You did this!" she shouted, "You're crying because you brought this upon yourself!"_

_He did nothing to reply. Just sat there, his shoulders still jumped. Tears flecked his jeans. Something wasn't right. Not that anything ever was. Something just always had to end up not working, coming through, or just had to be wrong! His whole life had been about being wrong… ever since that cursed year. Now, it would have to be relived, just not by him. He stared up at the figure on the floor, his face tearstained still as tears continuously made their way down his face._

_That was when he replied to her accusation, "No, I'm crying, mourning, for our child who is going to have to relive what I've already gone through. And you have no clue as to how painful it is. To be an outcast! Merlin only knows the damn cure for it, to begin with. And I've gone through life living as a fucking outcast. Don't tell me that I'm crying because I brought this upon me! I shall never worry about myself as long as I live. It's all about everyone else's safety to me because of what I am!" He voice cracked as he spoke, as he sounded angry, harsh. Her glasses fell hard to the floor, one lens shattering. Her long brown hair flew to the side as she tried to pick herself up._

_He went to her slowly, helping her up from the floor. She yanked her arm away from his grip and made her way down the hallway past the sofa and the rest of the furniture, entering the bedroom at the end of the hallway to wait out the night, to go to sleep, crying._

…_A few hours later…_

_He found himself crouching next to a bed with his head held low, crying, even more tears coming, this time staining the white sheets of the hospital bed, a Muggle hospital bed. He clutched her hand tighter. He could feel her palm growing colder with every passing second. _

"_Kaitlyn," he said slowly, "Please, please, do not leave me. I am so very sorry." He shuddered before he spoke, "I love you so much." He kissed her lips and closed her eyes as the light faded from them. The light he always found so heart warming had left them forever, never to return. He took a deep breath before bowing his head. Someone came up beside him._

"_We've managed to save the baby, sir," the woman said slowly. She placed a hand on his shoulder lightly as he looked up. "It'll be alright," she spoke quietly. Her voice was soothing._

"_Lupin?" the voice came to him. It was the same girl, her soothing voice now a whisper. She had looked at the name on the clipboard._

_He swallowed difficultly. "No, her last name was Phelps, not Lupin. We must have signed in as Lupin," he said quietly. "Can I see my daughter?" he questioned slowly._

"_Yes, sir," she turned and led him to a counter where a baby, wrapped in blankets, slept. His heart almost melted at the sight. With shaking hands he picked her up. A small smile was playing around his face as he tried to think of a name. "A beautiful one is the only one you shall get," he thought, slowly going through many names. _

"_Selina," he whispered into her ear, "Selina Lupin."_

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**TBC**

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_Moony73_


	2. Haunting Nightmares

_Haunting Nightmares_

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**This is just an old _short_, did I mention short? Short story that includes Remus.**

**The format and everything I am changing.**

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_10 years later…_

_He jumped up,_ the images of the dream still in his head, still haunting him even after ten years. He laid his head back down on the pillow slowly, drifting, still, in and out of sleep… until the loud voice came to him. His ten year old daughter leaning over him at the break of dawn, he jumped up once again. "I'm up!" he said hastily before she had the chance to scold him lightly for not listening to her attempts to get him up.

She left the room, making her way nosily down the stairs. He rubbed his head after dressing. Sitting at the foot of the bed, he thought, mulling things over again. "Why did that have to happen?" Then the thought of his daughter occurred to him, the way Molly and everyone else had treated her like a daughter even though of her condition. He had always wondered if it had been for his own benefit or hers. Telling her had been no picnic as well.

"_Look," he looked down at the floor, tears streaking his face in the warm glow of the lamp. He sat down on the bed and it creaked._

Remembering her giggle made him laugh. _"This is going to be hard for you to understand, but do you remember waking up hurt?"_

He had felt so guilty about that. Seeing her leg, wrapped in bandaging for at least a week, he held back the scalding hot tears that tried to make their way down his face. He wiped them away with the back of his hand and continued remembering the night. _"What hurt you… you got hurt because you're… a—"_ _He held her close to his chest and as she hugged him back, as he cradled her in his arms, he told her, whispering, "You're a werewolf, dear."_

_She looked up at him with huge eyes, "Is that a bad thing, daddy?"_ He closed his eyes just as he had then. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs. "Daddy, are you going to eat?"

He stood up, rubbing the back of his neck and hugged her. Kissing her forehead, he let her go and made his way down the stairs with her following behind. The Full moon was in two days and he already felt sick. She, as well, had started to acquire the usual pale streak that she got only once a month. Usually up and about, she started to act and feel sick on the specific week. Just watching her, lying in bed because of how she felt, solely how she felt made him feel like committing suicide.

Of course, he hadn't. Not yet anyhow. But every time the thought came into his mind, his daughter was always staring him in the face and the reoccurring thought of her needing him always won the battle. Standing there in the hallway, always at night, trying to explain to her, more lie, about what he was getting up to do. She always ended up being driven off to bed, usually with him behind her to make sure she stayed there.

"When's the Full moon, this month, dad?" she asked as they walked into the kitchen. He waved his wand and led the food to the table where silverware and china had already been set down.

"I think it's tomorrow. Would you please, please, just stop pestering me about it, Selina? It's bad enough I have to see you in bed looking sick for three days," he spoke firmly yet his voice sounded tired, realizing that she had barely made it in time waking him up that morning.

She leaned to one side as she held her gaze on him. Her left hand held up her chin and she spoke, reminding him of someone from long ago, "Fine, go on about your business, just leave me alone in the middle of a stone-cold darkness to rot. No, I'm okay with it," she said as he was about to speak.

She left him feeling guilty. Neither of them had eaten much as she rose from the table. She exited the kitchen and went to her room. He looked at his plate and waved his wand over the table. Everything disappeared and he left the kitchen, sitting on the couch once he had crossed the living-room. He remembered seeing a warm light in her eyes. A familiar light he thought to be cold.

"Kaitlyn," he muttered quietly. Everything, even after ten years, was wrapped around that event, that night. "Haunting nightmares, that's what they are. If only I had never obliged into moving in." It made no sense, but to him it had. He looked up as Selina walked in, her feet only taps on the hardwood floor. She looked caught as he spotted her.

"Sorry," she muttered. "What was that supposed to mean?"

"Aren't you the nosiest daughter in the world?" he asked, patting the seat on the sofa next to him. She walked over to him and sat down. "It's about your mother," he said slowly. She cut in after a few silent moments.

"You said she died—" she stopped, not continuing the sentence.

"The night you were born, yes," he finished for her. "She died because you were born. But I don't regret you being born," he finished slowly and continued, "You remind me so much of her, and yet, so much of me." Yes, that was true. He looked at her, at her eyes, how they shined so much like Kaitlyn's had… her body and the way it move. But she had his interests.

She looked up at him in disbelief. "I know that you hate me—"

He cut her off immediately, "What!" He was harsh. "You think I hate you," he said slowly, questioning. He shook his head, "This is about when I get up at night, isn't it?"

"It might be, yes," she said challengingly.

"That is something totally different and it doesn't even relate—" He was cut off.

"Don't lie to me, daddy," she sad quietly. "You were brave enough to tell me something I would have figured out for myself four years ago. Now you won't tell me something I can just worm from you…" she spoke cleverly. But he still stayed silent. Only when he saw the look that covered her face did he talk.

"When I get up at night, that's what you want to know?" he asked, questioning the matter. She nodded silently, listening. "That is about a dream, more about guilt. But the dream is a thing that actually happened. And that event, your mother's death, just haunts me night after night. The guilt part revolves around you… not in a bad way though," he assured her with the expression that crossed her face. A bitter solemn that he recognized, he'd seen.

"Please, don't do this to me. Your mother's death happened because I told her something of this sort. I don't want to lose you, not now… not ever. Don't do this to me. The only reason I feel guilty is what I've done, not because you're here. And you must listen to me now. Or else, someone will tell you otherwise." A questioning look came upon her face and he ridded her of it with an impatient wave of his hand. "Now, off with you," he said quietly.

She did not return to question him further about the matter. She left him to mull things over, alone and by himself. And she did this to herself as well; only, she took things differently, went down another pathway, a dangerous one at that.

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**TBC**

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_Moony73_


	3. Unknown Farewell

_Bidding an Unknown Farewell_

_"This is for both of our sakes. I hope you love me enough not to burn my body or anything of the sort. This is to you, father, as I bid this unknown farewell. If you die a good death, nothing involving suicide or anything of the sort, then I will never see you again. For I am going to sink to the deepest, darkest depths of Hell where I can see myself belonging, sitting in a shadowed corner, cowering in fear for if you do decide that dying right next to me is the smartest thing, then I shall pray for you as I leave this household in silence. I love you and I always have. Hate shall not take me over again. I will see you once again, I can feel it, but I never meant to be a burden to you, father, you have always been there for me, but this is my final choice: Hoping not to see you in the pits of hell, always yours, Selina."_

She quietly reread her farewell note; everything about it expressed her silent feelings. She had always loved her dad, he had always loved her, committing himself to her need, but she found that she had been the reason of his depression all along. She reminded him of her mom. Wasn't that a bad thing if her death haunted him?

Selina crouched down in the floor of her bedroom. If she hadn't known any better her dad would hide her skin if he even figured out what she was doing. Grabbing his razor had been one of the easiest decisions she had made so far. But now, as she stared down at her bare arm, she wondered. What would her dad do if he found her lying there on the floor with blood pooling all around her in a puddle, staining the carpet, her soul and body dead, cold as ice. She could see him, bending down in front of her weeping and beating her body out in anger. What would he do? She kept thinking when a pain scraped her arm, blooding dripping onto the carpet as she watched it in interest. She would have to clean that up soon enough.

'Later,' she thought quietly. She brought a towel that had already laid on the floor to her arm and the wiped it over the floor, smearing it even more. Once it had dried, she noticed, it had stained the thin carpet. She licked her arm, stood up and left the darkness of her bedroom, noticing her dad still sitting on the sofa, his head in his hands as she walked down the long hallway. She looked back up as if she hadn't noticed anything unusual, like the tears that stained his jeans, or the blood on his fingernails, or the new whitening marks on his arms from which blood slowly poured from.

She ran to the bathroom quietly, her socks making her pace sound different than what it had been as she ran and crouched over the sink. She saw that night's dinner in a haze as her eyes continuously blurred and cleared. She heard someone come to the door, and felt Remus's hands on her shoulders immediately after her shoulders convulsed dangerously. Suddenly she had no clue what was going on. Suddenly she was lost as she heard screaming, as her back hurt and her eyes burned. Why was he screaming? Nothing made sense for some reason.

Remus sat on the couch, his head in his hands when he heard the doorknob to his daughter's bedroom open and she stepping out. He knew she looked at him while passing the living room. He looked up as she looked back to the hallway where she was going. She had spotted the bloody marks on his arms from his own fingernails, signs of torture, probably for the both of them. He heard her running towards the bathroom, heard the door slam, and heard her vomit.

He jumped up immediately and made his way down the hall, not completely aware of what was going to happen. He stared at her figure over the sink, suddenly putting his hands on her shoulders instinctively, but his grip tightened as he realized what was missing from the bathroom, spotting the open drawer, the still bleeding mark on her arm, not even noticing she had just thrown-up.

"What have you done to yourself! Do you _intend_ to degrade yourself! Just because there is no other way out does _not_ mean you take it! You should _face_ what you have yet to know and what you've already learned!" His voice, ever so quiet and calm, rose as he spoke so loudly, that she could hear the porcelain of the bowl of the toilet and floor of the bathtub ringing with his voice.

The sound of his voice echoed to the other side of the room.

She cowered back between the two when she finally decided to speak.

Selina was wrenched away from the sink so quickly she hadn't had the time to realize who was screaming. Oblivious to his screams for a few moments, she heard the ringing of his voice in the bathroom and pushed herself between the bottom of the toilet and the bath tub before she chose to speak to her father as she took in what he was saying.

"If you listened to yourself _fully_ then you'd realize that you're talking about more than _one_ person here." It was hardly even muttered before he paused, everything suddenly silent, and heard the nearly inaudible line.

He stared at the broken things on the floor, just beginning to realize what he had done, when he remembered why she had run so unceremoniously into the room. He only barely tried to reach her between the closed space she had crawled into when he heard her speak only moments after he had decided to stop screaming and do something that would make her explain what she had chosen to do. Only to be surprised when she whispered, almost silently, that line that had been so rudely concocted, "If you listened to yourself fully then you'd realize that you're talking about more than one person here."

He blinked and returned to studying the things on the floor, and silently leaned in toward her before he decided to crouch down in front of her and apologize, try to help her with what she had done and teach her it was completely wrong and useless to do something so disrespectful in so many ways, to those around them and to themselves.

She stared at him silently between the space she had so unceremoniously settled in when he had moved toward her, crouching down, and with her eyes wide, put his hands on her shoulders, and muttered a quiet, imploring, begging apology, that she refused to believe. If he could go from flaming mad top silent depressing sorrow, or whatever he had hung himself over, in only moments rather than taken half an hour to think over what she had done, she refused to believe it. She knew. It only made half since, and she couldn't think properly with her heart pounding, her stomach hurting, her eyes burning, and the nauseating feeling that she was ready to release in another place besides that sink which she had thrown herself over only minutes ago.

He watched her carefully, studying her face, her expression, as he spoke quietly, "Look, I apologize. I shouldn't have done that. What you did was completely unacceptable. What I did myself was completely unacceptable. But we both fight for what we both believe in, do we not? When I ask you to avoid this situation from now on, I want you to know that this is a command when I say it. Is that understood?" He watched her, her eyes, the fear that was half hidden in them, they way her hands were shaking as she moved forward and hugged him, but there was not anything that made the hug less awkward.

As she listened to him, she felt her hands go with her as a shuddered and wave of emotion pass over her. She had accepted his apology, still wondering that if the hate that was inside her for this man now, her father, then it would have been hurting him in any way possible as she hugged him silently. She felt her eyes burning even more still, felt the tears that had given themselves away to slide down her face, leave her and fleck the light shirt he was wearing, and felt her body shake once more.

She could have come up with the fact that he thought this as shaking from his rant, fear he had so suddenly made her awake, but something she knew he couldn't interpret was the senseless hatred that had so clearly made itself appear. She looked back down at the back of her hand, at her arm, at the very base of her palm where she could just make out the scrape from the razor. She was so glad that her father had only seen the newest of her scar collection: the back of her hand which had also started to bleed once more.

Remus felt her body shake with either adrenaline of hate. Something had definitely made the hug worse, but he could tell until something warm flowed onto the sleeve of the tattered shirt he wore. He looked down at the lowest part of the top of his forearm to see a spot on the shirt sleeve soaked in blood. He grasped her hand and took her to the sink, running the water over her hand and brushing the flowing blood off with his thumb.

He could feel her hand shake. The small movement made its way up her arm all the wake to her chest. He turned and looked at her convulsing body, suddenly bathed in light. They both fell to the floor, both screaming in agony and pain.

She fought the feeling of wanting to push her dad's firm hand away from her arm, but she pulled herself in check and decided quite silently just to let him take her to the sink and put her hand under the running cold water. She realized that he kept glancing at her as if she were going to fall on the floor at any minute. Suddenly pain took her by surprise. She felt her hands shaking first. The pain spread immediately up her arm. She felt her shoulder pulled toward her spine and her head threw itself back completely by its own accord. She felt her arms trembling, and, as she started sinking to the floor, as the spasms continued to course throughout her body, she felt her father sinking with her, the pain engulfing her as if she were in a cold fire that made her want to shout and scream out in pain, though the shouts never left her gaping mouth as she stared up at the ceiling. Completely unaware of who she was and suddenly wondering why she was kneeling in front of a cabinet, standing on the tiled, cold floor in the middle of an unknown place with someone lying next to her. She smelled blood and went completely insane for the taste, her lips tingling as she looked around, immediately spotting the shaking figure in front of her.

She gazed at it intently. Something about this wolfish figure showed an aura that seemed to shout out, "SHOW ME RESPECT OR I'LL RIP YOUR HEAD OFF!"

She watched as the eyes flickered open, suddenly aware of the burning amber color that they had received. The gentleness in them tore the aura away from the figure. It gazed up at her, suddenly aware of everything around it, but she suddenly felt the urge to rush at him and fight him off, out of her new territory.


	4. Endangered Love

_Endangered Love_

_"C'mon —" Although the sound of her father's_ old voice was cut off as she lashed out at him. He skidded across the floor and was pushed into the side of the bathtub as she charged him.

He, though smaller, took command and pushed himself from the ground, one paw on her neck, the other on her arm as he stood over her. "Stop, now, follow me, I shall lead you someplace where we won't be a danger. You need to eat."

She watched as he jumped toward the door of the room, not understanding his free way of not killing her that instant. Why was she anywhere in this wolf's territory, in her territory? She could smell the scent of humans lingering everywhere in the building, but had, to her disappointment, did not find anyone lingering anywhere near her besides the wolf from before. She slipped across the wooden floor of the new room that he led her into and stepped onto the cold tile of the kitchen and watched as he grabbed something from the counter, ripped the tin foil off of it, and pushed it toward her. "Eat that, it was laid out before. No one will mind if you take it."

He turned toward the broken plate that had slipped from the counter. If only he would be able to clean that up the next morning. Sadly, he would be, as well as his daughter, too tired to do anything of the sort. But suddenly his mind buzzed forward to the time of someone coming to help him, someone to take care of him, including his daughter.

She was not safe. His daughter had not taken her dose of Wolfsbane that night and was prone to biting any human that came near her. He then realized that time, and went to the door of the living room, expecting someone to step through it at any moment. Everything suddenly stopped. The whole world was going to cave in. He was going to lose someone he loved, and he would not be able to handle that. He turned abruptly away from the door.

"Follow me," he said blankly, as if his voice were not his own.

"Why?" The inquisitiveness in her voice nearly made him angry but he tried not to lash out, remembering that she was the reason of danger he did not want to provoke her.

"Just follow me, please, take that if you want." He did not want to eat anything, he hadn't been very hungry. Not that he ever was during the three days of the Full moon. He had only just made is across the room with her at his side when someone knocked upon the door. Ears pricked, breathing hitched, Selina looked up from where her head had hung low.

"Follow me, hurry, they're after the two of us. Hide in here!"

What about you!" she asked, being pushed back into the darkness of her room. She tried to fight, worried about the people on the other side of the living room door, readied with knives that could cut their eyes out, shed their skin, kill them in anyway, and also worried about the one who was protecting her. She worried. She didn't even know who it was. But she did remember the particular smell that had surrounded the wolf. She had smelled it before, somewhere, only the remembrance of the smell was like a vague memory and she couldn't place exactly who had carried it before. Pictures flashed across her mind but she didn't remember names of anyone.

She heard the scratching of the wolf's claws on the wooden floor as they scrabbled for a hiding place. The knock on the door was louder, and, suddenly, there was a splintering sound of wood as something struck against it. A yelp was heard somewhere in the room, and she did her best to claw at the door, but her eyes did not see the battle within the open living room where she knew, the old wolf was being beaten.

Remus did his best not to be seen, but, as he slipped behind the loveseat that was pressed up against the wall, he was obviously spotted making his way between the arm of the small couch and the wall. Someone jerked him out of a short reverie of the fears that covered him in waves. What if they found Selina. What were they going to do with him? Someone did not feel right as he looked toward the door at the end of the hallway. He could just see the black point of her nose shoving under the door.

"There was another here, find that damn thing and murder it. This one's just a dog! Go now, damn it, you idiots! If we find that monster we'll be able to celebrate our victory over this!" He turned and looked Remus in the eye menacingly, continuing in a low voice, "You aren't in for a very good ride, but I'm sure this would be better. If that wretched father of yours hadn't shielded you from the whole fucking world, you'd be dead by now. But you know what? He's dead!" The strength of the sentence sent Lupin feeling like he was going to vomit up anything and everything that he had eaten over the span of the last five days. He heard the doors being broken down in the huge house. They snuck into his room to the left and searched through everything, knocking over the wooden desk, tearing away the blankets from the bed, breaking the mirror upon the bureau and in the bathroom, and tore away the bath curtain in the shower.

Another junction of men had gone down the hallway. 'Heaven forbid!' Remus thought immediately, 'don't let them find Selina! Hide, Selina, hide, _damn_ _it_!' But instead he heard a yelp as they made their way into her unlocked bedroom.

He knew, she had probably fallen back. Suddenly, remembering that she always had the window in her room down, he hoped she had jumped out and ran to safety. To his utter astonishment, and the great uproar of bellowing and shouts, she had decided against the urge to bite anyone and ran away to safety.

She ran towards the back of the house, making her way up the red dirt hill and charging through the underbrush that resided in the back of the house. She looked back to flames that had grown through the windows. The vacant guest bedroom, only used once every month, had flames licking through the broken windows. She watched as more men gathered around the windows of the house. Some throwing torches toward the windows, in the process breaking them and let the house burn.

She turned away, afraid that something bad was going to happen, the burning feeling in her stomach that she had forgotten something. Suddenly a wave of emotion flew over her. "DAD!" she couldn't help but howl out menacingly. Charging towards the men who stood outside was the last thing she had hoped to do, but she did it anyway. And they ran away from her as she reared on her hide legs and lashed out at them.

She watched as the flames and smoke cleared. Everyone, except for those who made it out alive, cowered on the ground. Just in the distance of the burned down house, only two figures' silhouettes could be seen. There were still corners of the house standing, some burning with crackling flames as she made her way up behind the tall man holding the dead wolf by the scruff.

She howled menacingly, biting the man in the neck, he let out a scream of pain, surprise, even anger as blood flowed slowly from the bite as he landed on the ground. It was as if a slow motion movie was playing in front of her: the man landing on the ground, her father landing with a sickening thud on a pile of glass shards obviously from a broken window. All of it made her head hurt. She could still only resist the urge to bite again and again at the man's flesh. Out of anger and pain but she held back and went straight to her father. Now what would she do. Wait overnight until the moon waned? She could not do that.

Suddenly an idea hit her hard. But she decided that it wasn't the best of options. Going there would need more effort, and the idea of her father being killed did not come into her head as easily as she thought it should have. After all, everything was against him. Even though she did owe him for paying his life for her, she still saw something in making her way north. With her strong arms, she picked up her father's broken limp body, placed it gently on her back, and made her way to the only place she saw she had the ability to go to.

Greyback.


	5. Ceased Smpathy

_Ceased Sympathy_

"_Why in the hell did you bring him_ here?" She was looking up into the eyes of the huge man. Standing over her, he looked down with an angry face. He lashed out at her, pushing her down to the ground with a strong punch. It was morning and the light of dawn was only making Greyback angrier. He hated this man; why in the hell did she think he would help her? "Take him back with you; otherwise I'll just carry out the duty of killing him myself."

That was the only thing that echoed in Selina's mind now; she couldn't get away from the fact that she was supposed to carry out the deed that Greyback, or the other man had almost been so close to doing. She would not be able to go back there, ever again; otherwise she would be, on the command, attacked and probably killed unless she took the chances of seeing Greyback and only him alone.

Her mind turned over to watch her father's laborious breathing, seeing that his chest had only risen and fallen once in a minute. His body, broken and hurt, laid upon a hospital bed, had been beaten severely, and breathing in smoke had not been the best thing for him. Her eyes wandered over to his other visitor who had hardly said a word, only a short hello and nodding at her short, clipped story, that she only remembered parts of, blurred and disfigured, of the previous night.

Hair usually bright and spike, now limp and tedious at her shoulders, eyes usually sparked and excited, she had gone from daring, carefree, and energetic, since the last time she had seen her, to dreary and melancholy in a matter of seconds, or over a span on twelve hours during which she had heard the news.

Suddenly Selina felt like lashing out, to make her go away, leave her alone, but she hadn't been doing anything except for staring at various parts of the room for five to ten minutes and then returning her gaze either to Remus or Selina.

Her thoughts slowly wondered to something else, for she no longer wanted to remain in the present.

She could hear the water of the shower, pounding down against the shower, her father's breathing in the bed, and stepped carefully, strategically, across the floor, trying not to wake him, standing in front of the bathroom door. She wondered silently, her thoughts trying to figure out what she would say without starting a fight or rise panic.

She listened quietly, intently. She could still hear her father's breathing, heavy, deep, which was a good sign, over the rainy sound of the shower. Soon, very soon, the threat would be in place, and soon, she would be able to make her father the most miserable person in the world. Soon, everything would go just as she had planned.

She opened the bathroom door at least five minutes later still worried that something could go wrong, but as the door swung open on its hinges, silent as she knew it would be, she was confident enough to go through with what she was thinking over in her head.

The shower curtain suddenly swung back and she saw, in a blur, someone, with scared, shocked eyes, jumped back and land against the back wall of the shower. She immediately started to speak in a menacingly low voice as she silently, quietly registered that she closed the door. Her eyes never left those of the one, who seemed so scared of the sudden appearance, but Selina kept to speaking, only when she finished did she turn away from the bathroom and walk silently to her bedroom. The words stayed in her head.

"Stay away from my father… he's mine and mine only!" That was when she knew it had worked. Everything was working perfectly now, and she knew that her dad would play his role perfectly, for she knew how the woman would relay the message. Just as she had suspected, Tonks would no longer think fondly of her, and that was what she wanted. Since she was ruining the plan that had been foreseen to for so long, ever since she was old enough to realize what she was doing at certain times of the month, she had disliked her and did not want to be appreciated by one who did not realize what in the world she was doing.

So she continued on with what she was doing, knowing that everything was right, in its right place for the time being, and that was just how she wanted it. Because the plan was going to go right, because everything was right, she was happy, and that was the only thing she cared for at the time.

"I'm serious, Remus, her eyes were burning and they were so scary—" the soft voice, was cut off with a firm reprimand, but the voice had been soft, conversational, as if he had been pondering something, and hard.

"I'm sure she's just jealous and worried that I'll forget about her when you move in. That's probably what she meant—"

"But it's not. It was a threat. You have to listen to me, trust me; no one would barge into a bathroom, nearly rip a shower curtain off the wall, and threaten someone to stay away from their parents!" She fought for her opinion, but it didn't work, at least not for long.

He looked thoughtful, but he still continued on with voicing his own thought, his opinion, "Trust me, Nymphadora, she didn't mean anything by it, I assure you." And so she didn't fight.


	6. Treason

_Treason_

_Selina avoided the both of _them the following days, speaking to her father only when he checked on her. She watched as the moon began to creep up in the sky, the light illuminating the bedroom floor. She didn't want to stay anywhere. All she wanted was to go back to her real home. But then again It was burned to the ground. The small three bedroom house wasn't much, but she was lucky that she was able to escape out the window and reach the ground instead of jumping into a nearby tree as she used to do.

She noticed the birds scattering, but only her ears picked up their presence. Her eyes were locked on something, a figure, which sat on the stone bench, positioned sitting toward the trees to her left. She sat there for at least five more minutes, and until she knew the figure hadn't moved, did she take up her position past the many holly bushes that surrounded her bedroom window.

"I see that you've noticed my presence—"

She stopped at the soft voice, that low rumble. It was gentle but it was so different from her father's. However gentle and mild it became it was always cold and stern and she knew she was able to recognize it anywhere possible.

She sniffed the air, lucky that she was upwind.

"And I also noticed that you haven't done anything since the attack. I set that up, if you noticed. Your uncle _was_ _not_ supposed to die. You _were_ _not_ supposed to have saved him. And I am _still_ pondering your exact reason as to _why_ you graced my presence by bringing him to me and laying his broken body at my feet. Tell me, _love_, what _would_ _have_ happened if you had left him there?"

She waited for his entrancing voice to die on the soft breeze, after all, it usually lingered in the air, ringing in her ears. And she had always wondered why his voice was able to do that, but she replied to him all the same.

"He would have died. But that was also my reason as to why I took him to your camp—" She was immediately interrupted when Greyback started a rampage.

"You are to _never_ take him to my camp. I do not want him _anywhere_ near me. That is why I have trusted you to take on my job. You are the _only_ person, in five years, who I have let this responsibility come to. And you are to do the job well, with _no_ fall-ups, or you are to not do the job at all, and I will kill on the spot and let you blood flow under your father's window, to scare the hell out of him when he sticks his head out in the morning and finds that your body is lying cold beneath that window. Then I _shall_ take on the job of killing him and your life will have no purpose then."

"This will be the only reason why you are living. I will repeat this, either _you_ take on that reason or I shall kill you. Do you understand me, _girl_?" Greyback continued his rant, his voice growing ever quieter. She had never seen the man with this cold a voice. He had never grown to the point where his voice had reached an inaudible growl, so close to the point that he was about to lash out at her, telling her otherwise, that he _was_ capable of hurting her, whether or not she was going to take on this responsibility.

She walked away quietly, assuring him that she would do this her way, making sure that her plan would become reality. And in fact, part of it had been messed up, but she knew her father would play along, for she was smarter than he, was she not?

Then again, she was only ten years old, and ten not being very old, she had her work cut out for her, for soon… she would realize what a true life and death situation was like.


	7. Till Death Do Us Part

_Till Death Do Us Part_

"_You have got _to listen to me, Remus, please!" She continued on, begging and pleading on behalf of her side of the argument. He laid there, propped up against the wall, his back to her, facing the window, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"What has she done?" His question was barely heard, but Tonks did not stop fighting.

"What do you mean, 'What has she done?' She scared the hell outta me, she's threatening you, and I just know it! She wants to kill you, Remus. It may not seem like it, but I know. I'm an auror, for hell's sake! I would know when someone's threatening another person, just so that they could keep a perfect plan. I've seen it a million times! We get the same fucked up problems in the Ministry, for example!"

"People who think that normal people are just bastards and don't really serve a purpose in society use the same damned threats to get their hands on mass chaos! You have to listen to me! I'm just trying to keep you safe… I love you, Remus… I'm just trying to keep you safe. You do understand that, don't you?" Her voice was pleading, and he fought hard to listen to her excuses, her explanations, as to why Selina had done what she had chosen to do.

But his resolve soon became stronger at the words of love, of affection. He was still hard on her about saying that line, 'I love you, Remus…' He just wasn't used to it, and although he had been brought back down to the merry wonderland called life and its consciousnesses, he still didn't reply. He didn't want to reply. She was right, but he didn't want to lose his daughter just as he had her mother. And now, since he knew that she would be taken under Ministry surveillance, he fought even harder for her.

"Remus…" Her voice struck his procession of thought, and she watched as he suddenly became uneasy, as his ears pricked:

"What's wrong?" Her voice suddenly changed from stern, firm, to mild and gentle, to soft, but it still remained serious however gentle.

"Selina, please go back to your room and stop trying to listen in. None of this concerns your actual presence." He stayed in his exact spot as she stepped into the doorway, her skinny frame leaning against the doorway.

"Selina, I _will_ _not_ repeat myself…" His voice continued to fade, just a whisper.

She made her way to the other side of the room, slinking past Tonks who stood there silently, watching the girl with carefully trained eyes as if she had X-ray vision that could see into her pockets, see what she carried, or see into her mind, telling her what she wanted.

Selina took her place beside her father silently, her head low, eyeing a place in the carpet as she fiddled with her hands.

"I know what you are doing, though. What have I done wrong, Daddy? Please, tell me. I'll try to make everything better. What have I done?" She looked up at him carefully, slowly, cautiously, like a dog that had been scolded by its master. Is that what she was, just a dog, a beast?

Tonks watched her skeptically, trying so hard not to give into those eyes, those solemn, gleaming eyes, those pleading, imploring, begging eyes.

"Daddy . . . Please—"

"Selina, I will not ask you again! This only concerns me and your mother!" Realization hit him. Just as quickly as he stood in front of her, he sank back down onto the bed. Selina backed away, slowly shaking her head. Tonks rushed forward to his side, to the window.

He shook his head and looked wildly around, jumping when he actually realized Tonks was standing there. "You need to leave. I'm sorry; I never meant to say that—"

"Remus, what did you mean?" Tonks asked slowly, cautiously, gently. She wanted to know, so very badly. Was he referring to her? Or . . . It was impossible. Remus would have never let it happen. But nothing else was a good enough explanation as to why he had Selina.

"Remus, please," she looked pleadingly at him.

Selina disappeared completely, running from the room, silently to the end of the hall where he room was. She snaked out the window, slowly landed on the ground below. She realized that her father did not want her. Altogether he had used her. But for what reason, she didn't know. Maybe she reminded him of her mother. But if she did then why had he kept her for sop long?

She ran away, slowly leaving where she belong, the only place that welcomed her with open arms, her father's arms, so comforting. Yet, she just didn't believe that she could trust him much less that Greyback himself.

Greyback's cold eyes lingered on her.

"Tonight is the second night. Tomorrow, yes, tomorrow shall be the day that you become the most beautiful thing in the world. Yes, do you trust me my dear?" She shook her head slowly, her eyes unseeing, glazed, motionless. They held no light whatsoever, and as she shook her head, inside she was screaming, admittance farther away than ever. '

"I'm giving my soul! I'm giving it away! For I have no where to go! And I have nothing to say! Who shall save me now that I've no one left for me to turn to? For I'm giving my soul away and I have nothing to say! Nothing at all! Nothing at all to say! I've turned away, turned ever so slowly. And now no one san save me. I've turned cold, turn away, and so I have nothing to say! For I'm giving my soul away, giving it to the cold devil that seeks nothing except for my lost soul.

Yours,

Selina"

She had left the farewell note on the floor of her room. She had recited it over and over, as instructed by Greyback. "Come up with something good. Leave it there for them to figure. Get your father's Wolfsbane to me, and then you shall bring it back. By the time the sun says goodbye to its fellows, I want you to return to me."

He never said that her father would be dead by the next morning. He didn't want her to suffer through that, for she would never want him if she if she figured what he was doing. He had always thought her beautiful, had always thought her mother beautiful. And now, since her mother had been lost, he had always been angry. But now she was in his clutches.

"Mine to control," he whispered to himself. "Have you brought the potion, my dear?"

She answered reassuringly, unknowing of what she was doing. "The date is due," he muttered mystically.


	8. Due Death

_Due Death_

_She walked slowly down the hall, _readying herself to leave. Where had she gone?

"Why am I so intent on finding out where she is?" She questioned herself over and over. Was it because she was so vulnerable now? She realized that that was probably it. She walked into the bedroom, seeing papers scattered on the floor, a few bloodstains on the carpet. That was what had worried her so immensely.

She walked around the room, realizing that the window was ajar, that the screen was missing. Claw marks lined the sides of the walls around the window frame. Had Remus ever noticed those?

She looked around, the bed sheet were missing and a few bones were littered around it as well. A nest-like bed formed around in the corner where the bed had been pushed roughly. She looked down, scanning the floor for any sign, anything, besides the bloodstains. They worried her so much. What had they come from, an animal or herself.

"Selina, I'll murder you if you did what I think you've done." It was weird. She couldn't believe she was actually caring about her. She had scared the living Hell out of her and yet she still wanted to protect her. It was a strong motherly instinct, however much she believed she would make a crappy mother.

She noticed two notes on the floor, stapled to the thin carpet. One was just pitiful, but the other was bloodstained, the stain pale but dark, as if it had been there for at least three days.

She bent over and jerked them from the carpet, reading the first and then the second, the ripped one.

They both surprised her immensely. She could recognize which one had been written first. It was as if in sequence, a warning that she would be hurt, and then the second, the threat, the one that signaled that she was dead. And she was being threatened or taken over or possessed by someone or something.

"I'm giving my soul!" What did that mean? She didn't reread the notes. But she did end up so suddenly on the wooden floor of the living room, skidding to a halt in front of the bedroom door. Why had Remus been such an idiot not to notice these things?!

She burst through his bedroom door, but nothing. No one was there. He had left, just as Selina had gone.

Or at least she hadn't checked upstairs. She made her way back to the hallways, making her way up to the second floor. Why hadn't they just stayed with her instead of living in this old place? Everything was so confusing. It was sort of like their old home except bigger and more . . . cryptic. It was silent as the grave and she could do nothing to break it except run around to and fro. He was nowhere. Where had he gone?!

"I should have been able to spot him if he'd left. Unless—the moon!" It came out quietly, a small whisper.

Remus made his way to the back of the room as soon as she had left. He would leave the house. He had sat quietly down against the bed, withdrawing into himself. Tonight was the night . . . the last moon. Selina had not shown, and that worried him.

He heard Tonks moving around and about the house, but he had suspected her to leave. The door had been shut quietly, and apparently she hadn't noticed. He wanted her to leave, to put her out of danger.

But as the last of the potion was position on the bedside table, he heard her smash through the door.

"Remus, look at this!" She showed him both the notes, but he did nothing except look at her angrily, sternly.

"I want you to leave." His voice was quiet, withdrawn, depressed.

"But Selina—"

"I know where she has gone. I want to keep you safe. Now leave." He continuously kept his voice low. It didn't rise, it was just a steady beat, mechanical, like a robot, programmed to stay low and deep.

"Please, listen—"

"Leave!" he implored. "She'll be alright, she's done this before. She just left; she's gone, transformed—"

"You don't get it!"

"She'll be alright. I'll be alright. Just, please go. I'll take care of it."

She cut him off after his last sentence, "She's been stolen. She's been serving someone, I know it—"

"And I shall take care of it. I just don't want you to be a part of it. I know you're able to keep yourself safe, it's just that if you're hurt I would never be able to forgive myself. Do you understand that?" He paused before deciding to go on. "It was Selina's mother I mentioned. I was an idiot long ago. I love you and I'm not going to let the same thing come of you. I need you to understand that. If I am ever to love you, I'm going to keep you from the same fate that took her," he restated, "Alright? I want you to leave. I know you worry about Selina, but she will be alright. Trust me."

She nodded, her mouth open, her pulse quickened. Had she heard what he just said? She nodded once more, kissed him softly on the mouth, and left the house, silently hoping that he would be okay.

Pain jerked him from his hallucinating. He realized that moonlight lit the room, the white, flowing curtains looked like water. Colors looked like tie-dye and the room dissolved as if he had opened his eyes underwater. Pain made him scream, his head overflowing with hot liquid; the moon was the center of his mind, the white of it hot flowing lava although however hot it was it was not made of fire, yet it was in his head. The heat in his head did not overcome the cold feeling that took him over.

He felt sharp knives being jammed into his finger tips, his feet, and his mouth. They were like probing needles, finding exactly where they went. When had he felt this excruciating pain? When had he been damned to feel this? Why was he like this?

Remus slowly felt his eyes dilating and widening, the pain making everything worse, a bittersweet liquid, a drink, a Courvoisier, alcohol. Everything seemed to happen so slowly, yet, even though he knew nothing as to where he was, his consciousness was stolen and he had no clue who he was. Vision blurred, dizzy, it all felt like a dazed daydream, but he did not wake up.

A building opened up in front of him, trees and leaves shaking and moving all about him. Leaves were fluttering in piles about the front of the building, a small copse behind it. He wondered what was held behind it. It widened as he limped slowly toward the back; he felt trapped somehow, something, someone's bright eyes looming over him above the tree line, making everything spin and move about like a horror movie, flicking and moving in and out of place.

He looked around, head spinning as if he had just come from a huge headache. Heat came over him in waves just like a normal headache, but the sight of blood, of remains, that was what awoke his mind; his control was completely lost, but he heard that voice, that fluid, soft voice. Velvet soft, silken, angelic, but it was rough all the same when he focused on it, just as the man's beard was.

He looked into those, yellow rimmed and threaded with that poisonous color.

A snarl erupted throughout his head, but he came to realize that the tremulous, terrorizing roar came from his throat.

He charged the man, his limbs flailing around like jelly until he came to control them. The man fought back, hands clawing, shredding, and tearing the air. A sudden pin lit across his chest and blood made his mind explode. It dripped down in small black droplets. He fought harshly, judging his opponent shrewdly.

A pair of eyes over head, burning and white, watched the both of them, enjoying the battle like a liquor, a sweet drink that should always be enjoyed no matter how bitter it was.

Bitter grapes, a champagne, or wine, either was good, but they still fought on, both challenging each other fiercely.

That is until one fell, gasping for breath, mane and hair flying as he fell, palms hard on the ground, teeth glistening with some source of blood, tongue savoring that iron, metallic taste. He had fallen, and so he lost.

Slowly, a mind crawled from beneath that deep layer of wanting, of desire, that primal mind, loaded of instinct and bloodlust.

Fur grew back into skin, eyes grew smaller, and the needles that had implanted themselves throughout his body withdrew in yelps and shrieks of pain. He was on his knees, but as he shakily stood, he was suddenly smashed down into the ground. Mud suddenly became his eyes, a layer of skin. He felt around, trying to eye his assailant with acute vision.

He realized that harden gashes on his chest were from his attacker.

"Greyback, I see you've come for a battle."

"And I see that you've already one." Both voices were bitter with dislike, yet the moon above them glared with impatience.

"It seems that I've already beaten you?" His voice drained out of him like blood from a gash. His breath quicken with the sight of his fallen daughter. "You've hurt her!" His brows knitted, his eyes growing until they became orange.

He charged that massive wolf-like figure, but he once again ended up on the ground. But as he lay next to her broken body, he rested her against his chest, his back to the bloodied wall of the water-house, the shed. He didn't know what lay inside, didn't care.

But, all of a sudden, the shed, Greyback, everything dissolved slowly until the whitewashed walls of a hospital open in front of him.

He slowly let her go, ready to return to somewhere else where he would not be pain attention, he just hoped that he would be able to forgive and be forgiven at the same time, tear not making their appearance as he had thought they would.

* * *

Dedicated to the friends that have always been able to make my day. However many I seem to be losing, I have always been able to keep the best by my side somehow. I would love to be able to thank them with this, even if it shall not be recognize by any others. 

To my sister and my best friends, only two I could never be without—

Chasity, and Michelle

_When it hurts to look back and you're scared to looked ahead, look beside you and you shall always find a friend there, right next to you._

_When you have no clue what to do, when no one is there to guide you, look away from death, away from pain, and release yourself away from the world, away from the hate, and away from the memories._

_K. T. Ochle_


End file.
